


101 Crabs: A Homestuck Parody

by PleonasmicBird



Category: 101 Dalmatians (1961), Homestuck
Genre: F/F, Humanstuck, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2018-12-11 17:20:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11718963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PleonasmicBird/pseuds/PleonasmicBird
Summary: This work is based off 101 Dalmatians because I’m awful. Dave Strider is a musician and occasional slam poet who lives all alone until he meets Karkat Vantas, a romance author and pet owner of, yes, crabs. All good things come to an end when Eridan Ampora, a friend from Karkat's school days, wants to fulfill his job as an aquatic animals rights “activist” and throw all of Karkat's crabs into the ocean. This, of course, is stupid because throwing domesticated aquatic animals into the ocean would cause all sorts of mayhem for the ocean’s ecosystem. But Eridan wants to get his way and will go to any means to get those crabs in the damn ocean.





	1. Crab-Man

* * *

Your name is Dave Strider and your story began in London not so very long ago…

Summer was one of the most lazy and incredibly yawn-inducing times of the year. Well, that was actually most everyday in the life of a musically inclined young adult who had been recently freed from college. Oh no, you hadn’t graduated; you simply dropped out because, let’s be honest, your classes were boring as shit.

Suddenly, a crow slams into your bachelor flat’s window and slides down the surface slowly. It falls out of view until your mind’s eye sees it land as you hear a slight mixture of a  _ plop  _ and a  _ crunch _ . Dammit. This was the umpteenth time this had happened. You gave up counting long ago. You guess you should go clean up the dead crow carcass as your neighbors had started to appear more and more visibly annoyed whenever these incidents occurred. Though you suppose it wasn’t your fault, right?

As you exit your flat, you hear disgruntled murmuring all around you. A rumour had caught on that you were some sort of unholy being who used crows as a form of messaging with your fellow cult members. What crap. If anyone were to be called unholy, it would be your sister, Rose, who takes great interest in the macabre and whatever cryptic stuff she’s into these days. She is currently having the time of her life on a cruise with her newly-wedded wife, Kanaya, and they both seem to be living in absolute bliss. Yep, rumours would surely start about an interracial lesbian couple in this part of town.

You have scooped up the dead crow into a plastic bag and throw it into a nearby trashcan. But you feel completely exasperated. A general disinterest in exercise along with depression does not leave you in very good shape. And eating 3 meals a day is absolutely out of the question. Not that you can’t afford much food, but rather that you spend most of your days hunched over your piano and turntables feeling utterly useless and uninspired in which food is the last thing on your mind.

_ Useless and Uninspired _ …. That could be the name of one of your songs. Though you probably wouldn’t have as many gigs as negativity doesn’t always go over well with society. Look at you, thinking like an angsty teenager, thinking about SOCIETY. Yeah, you should probably save that shit for your slam poetry sessions. Your small audience seems to dig that stuff.

Across from your flat is Regents Park, a spot where many dog fanatics spend their days, along with the occasional group of grannies who like to furiously discuss their latest reads. Damn, you love those grannies. As you gaze at the park, remembering your last encounter with the grannies where they had a furious debate about the significance of American teen romance authors, you notice a short figure walking into the park. On closer inspection, you see it is a tan chubby guy about your age with…. with…

_ IS THAT A FUCKING CRAB ON HIS SHOULDER???? _

Wait, hold up. This can’t be real. You laugh to yourself in complete disbelief. Okay you HAVE to meet this guy. You look both ways of the street, and as the coast clears, you skip across the road. It’s always smart to look both ways, for while you are slightly suicidal, you’d prefer something slightly more creative than being run over by a car. 

You have entered the park. The angry voices of the grannies roar in the distance. Sorry, grannies, not today. You have a crab-man to find. A warm wind rustles the trees as you stroll in search of the crab-man. At last, you spot him seated on a bench, the crab rested on his lap. But how to go about this? Should you just walk up to him and wing it or should you overthink this into oblivion before you approach him??? Crab-man seems to notice your uncomfortable presence and calls out to you.

“HEY. YOU. THE SKINNY, EXTREMELY PALE ONE WITH THE SHADES.”

You jump. His voice was noticeably loud. He wasn’t shouting at you, but it was as though he spoke in caps-lock, if that makes any sense.

“Uh, hi. Ummmm…” you stutter.

This is extremely awkward.

“WHAT WERE YOU DOING?? WHY WERE YOU ACTING SO WEIRDLY AROUND ME???” he inquires.

Take a deep breath in, Dave. Time to play it cool….cool….

You burst out laughing. Something about the way this guy was looking at you with such a confused yet defensive face as he held his crab closer to himself was just so hilarious. You laugh harder as his face morphs into that of someone completely terrified.

“So...pffft...ha ha ha!! Um, sorry, I just.. *ahem* I’m Dave. Dave Strider.”

Crab-man’s face returned to what could be considered normal and proceeded to introduce himself as well.

“HI. THE NAME’S VANTAS. KARKAT VANTAS,” he said as smoothly as he could muster, which wasn’t very smooth by the way.

Oh. Oh shit. Once more, you explode with laughter. Karkat looks very embarrassed and is blushing bright red. You attempt to comfort him.

“Nah, man, it’s okay. I can understand that you wanted to make a good impression. But…. just don’t use a Bond line ever again.”

Karkat nods in agreement, though his humiliation is still visible. Now you’re starting to feel bad. Maybe you should change the subject so he doesn’t feel as awful for his ultimate social fail.

“So uh, you like… crabs???” you ask.

“YEAH. WHAT ABOUT IT?” he responds with a melancholy edge to his voice.

“Nothing!! I just um uh.. It’s unique! Sorta?” 

You’re just making things worse. But as you were awkwardly attempting to converse, you start to notice Karkat’s features. His appearance completely contrasted with yours. While you were tall, lanky, and bony with your albino complexion and white-ish blonde hair, he was short and chubby and had dark reddish brown wavy hair and light brown skin. And damn, did he have freckles. But now isn’t the time for you to be thinking about appearances. You need to lighten the mood. An idea pops in your head.

“Hey, Karkat. Have you ever wanted to see old ladies debate about American romance novels?”

Karkat’s eyes light up and he begins to grin.

“OH FUCK YES.”

It turns out that Karkat knows a lot about all sorts of romance novels to the point of obsession. You know this because he is following the grannies’ conversation perfectly while loudly mumbling to himself. But you pay this no mind as you are so grateful to be past those awkward introductions. As you sit on the bench that has the perfect view of the grannies, you notice Karkat isn’t sitting next to you as he was earlier. HOLY SHIT HE’S WITH THE GRANNIES. Oh no, the grannies are getting serious now that Karkat has joined them. Last time they got this serious, they were suspended from the park for a month. Those were quiet days.

While Karkat makes his argument about.. whatever is being discussed, the grannies have quieted down and a few of them begin to nod in agreement, while some are eyeing him judgmentally. You decide right now: this would make a great reality tv show. You fantasize and brainstorm about how to produce such a masterpiece, but you snap out of it as soon as Karkat taps you on the shoulder.

“THESE LOVELY OLDER LADIES HAVE JUST FINISHED THEIR MEETING. PLUS, IT’S GETTING LATE. I’M GONNA HAVE TO GO NOW, DAVE.”

Mild disappointment floods your brain, but you suppose Karkat is right. You both should probably go home. Karkat waves goodbye to you and you return the gesture. Plans to meet again have been made and you CANNOT WAIT. Though an impatience to see someone again is very rare to feel in your case. Perhaps because this was such a strange friendship? You’ll just stick with that reasoning.


	2. If Hipsters Were Geographic Units of Measure, the Mysterious Visitor Would be the Prime Meridian.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karkat reminisces; an old acquaintance comes to visit. Dave's mouth emits some heavenly poetry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, sorry for such a long wait. (That is, if any of you have been that fond of this mess, to the point of awaiting its second chapter.) Anyway, this is kind of a short chapter, but I wanted to get at least some sort of continuation of the story out there. I hope it is somewhat satisfactory.

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and it’s been 4 years since you’d first met your husband, Dave Strider. Yet so much has happened since then, that it seems like an eternity.

As you lie on the squishy sofa, your nose in a book, you remember your wedding day.  
“Wilt thou love him, comfort him, honour and keep him in sickness and in health; and forsaking all others, keep thee only unto him so long as ye both shall live?” asked the Reverend. Or, at least, he said something like that. You may have hyperbolized it a bit.  
“I will,” Dave had replied.  
You smush the book onto your face, and start kicking your legs in glee, emitting a surprisingly quiet sort of “Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!” sound. It was just like one of your romcoms or novels in how perfect it all was. Well, it wasn’t perfect, but that’s what you like most about it. It was reality. Your reality.  
A smashing of piano keys startles you. It’s followed by a thunkathunkthunkthunkcrash, as well as a record skip, and you jump up in concern.  
“DAVE? ARE YOU OKAY UP THERE?” you call.  
You hear a muffled “Yeah...” and resume your reading. Where had you left off? Ah yes, Lady Cordelia was just about to partake in a passionate kiss with her lover, Lord Billiam. Oh, how you yearn to be in a situation as romantic as theirs. Not that you have a problem with Dave; you love the shit out of him, but he isn’t the best in terms of romantic atmosphere. Many a time, he would interrupt your make out sessions with bouts of awkward laughter, after accidentally scraping his teeth against yours, or would try to make a joke out of a very intimate situation you were both in. You knew he took your relationship seriously; he was the one who proposed to you in the first place. But holy fuck, if he could just have a purely passionate moment with you for once. Stupid Dave.  
You sigh. It probably isn’t good to start dwelling on such things. You know he tries his best. Your attention shifts the small cluster of 5 crabs in their aquarium. Aw, they’re all so cute, with their snippy claws, their kind black eyes, not to mention they all get along. You stand up and walk over to the tank to check the water filter. It’s clean and functioning. You check the water temperature as well. Perfect. Your pet crabs deserve nothing less than the best, the adorable bastards. There’s movement upstairs, and once more, you hear a record skip, along with a frustrated groan.  
“Kaaaarkatttttt, I can’t think of a good raaappppp,” Dave whines.  
“I GUESS I COULD HELP YOU? ‘THE ARISTOCRACY OF THE NIGHT’ HAS SOME CHOICE VOCABULARY, I DON’T FUCKING KNOW,” you reply.  
“No, no, not ‘The Aristocracy of the Night.’ I just need, like, an epiphany, or some shit. Like brand spanking new content that makes everyone think and feel, and say, ‘Damn, that’s some deep shit this guy’s spewing.’ Gotta up my game, Karkat.”  
“WELL AT LEAST COME DOWN HERE FOR TEA, OR BOILED GATORADE, OR WHATEVER THE HELL IT IS YOU MANAGE TO HYDRATE YOUR BODY WITH WHEN I’M NOT LOOKING,” you nag. You really worry about him sometimes.  
“But Karkat, dearest,” Dave says in a shitty, mock posh tone, “I must complete my rad as fuck symphony! A true artist can’t just abandon his work, leaving it all alone and freezing its ass off! Besides, AJ is the good shit.”  
“AH YES, YOUR AFFINITY FOR APP-”  
Tap tap tap  
You are interrupted by knocking at the front door of your apartment. A clear silhouette can be seen through the frosted glass window of the door. You know who it is.  
“Who’s that?” Dave asks, “Is it your old hipster classmate, what’s-his-face? Y’know, the one who ranted for an hour about marine biology?”  
“YES, DAVE, IT’S ERIDAN.”  
You make your way towards the door, when suddenly,  
“Yooooooooo, I have an idea!!” Dave exclaims.  
Having turned towards his voice, you see him sauntering down the stairs, his phone in hand. And from said phone, you hear what could only be described as “an ill beat.” And so, Dave begins to rap.

If hipsters were geographical measures of units  
He’d be the prime meridian  
All up and shitting about  
Bitching about  
His fall outs  
With the scientific community  
It means shit to me  
His holier-than-thou attitude  
So rudely asserting  
That it’s a noble cause  
To throw the creatures  
Who don’t belong with Jaws  
Into the motherfuckin’ ocean  
He needs some education  
On evolution  
Pollution  
And how bad is his “solution”  
Gotta learn real quick  
Before he catches the hands  
Of the ecosystem of the Atlantic  
Hysteri-

“DAVE, WHAT THE HELL!? HE’S LITERALLY OUTSIDE RIGHT NOW!! HE COULD HEAR YOU!!” you hiss, though you can’t disguise the smile growing on your lips. After taking a few deep breaths to compose yourself, you hear another knock on the door.  
“COMING!” you respond, and hastily make your way to the apartment’s entrance. You turn the knob and are greeted with a figure absentmindedly tapping his foot in impatience. Yeah, that was him; Eridan Ampora.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow this is my first work on this hell site. That's a thing.  
> So yeah I'm moderately proud of this work and hopefully it holds up in the future.  
> Hope y'all enjoyed


End file.
